


the mess we've made

by gaydisasterdanvers



Series: tumblr kiss prompts [4]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: AgentCorp, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Fix-It, Fluff, Lena Luthor Knows Kara Danvers Is Supergirl, Post-Break Up, Second Chances, Some kissing, alex danvers as a bit of a fuckboi at one point, just a lil angst for flavor, some spice, there is rain for dramatic effect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:40:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29025114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaydisasterdanvers/pseuds/gaydisasterdanvers
Summary: Flee, her mind screams.Fight, her heart argues.Motor neurons snap and fire, drive the movement of her feet despite the protests of that stupid metaphorical place of feeling in her chest. Her steps are quick, deliberate. The shallow pounding of blood in her ears extinguishes the sounds of the city, drowns out the sound of feet pounding the pavement behind her.-written for the tumblr prompt for agentcorp passionate kiss.
Relationships: Alex Danvers/Lena Luthor
Series: tumblr kiss prompts [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2127651
Comments: 13
Kudos: 62





	the mess we've made

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  **secondary prompt because i wanted a challenge:** _“I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.”_
> 
> this was posted on tumblr a long time ago  
> somehow i never got around to posting here.
> 
> comments are always appreciated!
> 
> **tumblr:**[gaydisasterdanvers](https://gaydisasterdanvers.tumblr.com)  
> 

National City doesn’t see rain frequently but when it does? It’s torrential- falling in heavy sheets that leave ebbing puddles in the streets, deep enough that it’s nearly impossible for Alex Danvers to navigate the city on her motorcycle without fear of losing control.

In retrospect, walking the distance from the bar to Lena’s building was not her wisest decision. The rain had lulled to a mist, but the sky was dark, the moon tucked behind a wall of threatening clouds. But her body is buzzing- warm from the mix of whiskey and adrenaline. The courage finally bubbling to the surface after a few rounds of drinks with some woman she didn’t care to remember the name of. Bella? Becky?

Oh, right.

_Becca_.

Not that the name mattered much; she didn’t plan on seeing her again. Really she should’ve never asked her out in the first place. But nights were a little too cold and a little too lonely with nobody to fill the space between her sheets. That was the intent, of course. Finding someone to fill the physical void. But it never went that far. Oh, and not for lack of trying. It always started and ended the same way. A bar, a few drinks, some subtle touching beneath the table. Her fingers always pressed higher, skimming over thighs as their bodies shifted closer. It was the same every time- a proven success: scratch just inside their knee, enough to get their attention. Meet her eyes. Subtle glance at her lips. A lip tugged between incisors. Lean in.

It’s a science really. A hypothesis tried and tested. Proven to be effective 99.9% of the time.

Effective, sure. Fulfilling? Never.

Regardless of how many times she tries to convince herself, she knows they’re never going to taste familiar- like expensive scotch and crimson lip stain. Their hands won’t know every curve of her body, the exact spots to touch, kiss and mark with teeth and tongue. They’ll never match whip-quick intellect and a brilliant mind for science that has always left her reeling. Has challenged her own knowledge base and expanded on what she thought she knew.

Regardless of how many times she closes her eyes, tries to pretend that the lips that are overeager and too-wet against her own belong to someone else, she fails.

Even after six weeks, it tears open old wounds, jagged and scabbed but never left long enough to scar.

Lightning snaps through the night sky, long veins of electricity zipping through the clouds and igniting them in a deep purple glow. A rumble of thunder that builds- growing until it rattles panes of glass in their skyscraper frames. The storm builds, wind whipping through abandoned city blocks, the chill raising the hair at the back of her neck.

Or maybe that’s the ever growing feeling of uneasiness and regret. Shame and disappointment. The weight of which has had her struggling to stay afloat since the night everything went to hell. When she was branded a liar and all too worthy of the open palm that struck and blossomed into a red imprint against her cheekbone.

Even with her head bowed against the wind, she knows the streetlight’s familiar glow well enough to know when she’s reached her destination. The private door to the building is undoubtedly locked, yet her fingers wrap around the handle in anticipation. The false bravado falters, then, and with it comes the waves of unease that wrack her stomach. The burn of alcohol that was once a welcome distraction becomes a catalyst in the nausea that builds steadily and threatens at the back of her throat.

The speaker beside the door crackles to life unexpectedly, causing her hand to fly from the door handle as she stares up at the camera’s eye above her. It doesn’t take much to know just who is behind the screen, undoubtedly watching her every move.

The damn security system, she should’ve known. Now, any chance at ignoring the impulses and returning home alone as she’s done so many other times has completely gone to shit.

“Director Danvers,” Lena’s voice breaks over the intercom, firm and cold as ice. Strictly business- in the practiced way the CEO typically reserved for men who challenged her authority, “I expect this isn’t a business call, seeing as it’s nearly two in the morning?”

The inflection of each word pierces through her facade, twists in the armor Alex Danvers so carefully constructed to protect herself from harm. The pain radiates in waves from her chest, forces the oxygen from her lungs as the pulsing burn of tears builds behind her eyes. She hesitates- tongue heavy with unspoken words, incapacitated behind her chattering teeth, “This was a bad idea,” Alex admits, hanging her head to avoid the camera’s prying eye, “Sorry to bother you. Just- I’ll go, it’s late. Sorry.”

_Flee_ , her mind screams.

_Fight_ , her heart argues.

Motor neurons snap and fire, drive the movement of her feet despite the protests of that stupid metaphorical place of feeling in her chest. Her steps are quick, deliberate. The shallow pounding of blood in her ears extinguishes the sounds of the city, drowns out the sound of feet pounding the pavement behind her.

“Alex,” a voice breaks through the static, the easy and familiar way her own name can send swells of heat lapping at her senses, “ _Alex, stop._ ”

She doesn’t turn to the source of the sound- doesn’t need to look to know.

“Let me go,” she replies in a tone that falls far flat of the firm demand she imagines it’ll be.

“Did you come here to _apologize_? Tell me for the upteenth time that you were simply trying to protect your sister? As if that’s a reasonable excuse to lie to your- whatever we were supposed to be.” Lena Luthor is seething, spitting words dripping in venom and betrayal. It’s barely audible, the way her breath catches on a tremor and her voice wavers ever so slightly, “ _I trusted you_. I let you in despite my best judgement. And somehow, that betrayal? That hurts far more than Kara’s.”

“Lena-” Alex pleads selfishly, and she can’t bring herself to turn back- to look in those deceptively cold eyes. To face the consequences of her actions, the hurt she unleashed on the woman who had so quickly taken up residence in the scarred chambers of her heart.

“No, Alex. I think you’ve kept enough secrets at this point. I want to hear what was so important that you thought it best to show up, completely unannounced in the middle of the night. You owe me that atl-”

The words that she’d rehearsed bubble to the surface and break, exploding from between her lips before she can stop to filter them, “I miss you!”

A shaky breath pulls into her lungs, filling the silence left by the echo of her admission. Pressing her heel into the pavement, she turns to find Lena Luthor all but stopped dead in her tracks. If she’s at all surprised by the outburst she doesn’t show it. With arms crossed over her chest, she looks all the part of her no-nonsense executive role. There is no softness to her features, from the lift of her brow to the sharp angle of tension in her jaw. And while Alex hadn’t expected her to grovel at her feet, she didn’t expect to feel the chill of discontent radiate from the emerald eyes boring into hers.

“There.” she continues, feeling the simmering frustration building to a boil beneath her skin, “Is that what you wanted to hear, Lena? That I’m pathetic and I can’t stop thinking about you? When I’m at work or trying to date and move on with my life? I just-” she pauses to glance skyward, the intensity of Lena’s focus too much to bear. Fighting to steady the erratic thrum of the cursed muscle in her chest, she draws another deep breath, “I can’t keep kissing strangers and _pretending_ that they’re you. Because they’re not. And no matter how tightly I close my eyes, how much whiskey I swallow to dull the pain or impair my judgement, they’re never going _to_ _be_ you.”

The sky opens with a deafening roar of thunder, the clouds emptying their contents in fat drops that soak through fabric, leave denim dark and clinging to her thighs. It’s all too fitting, Alex thinks as she pushes dripping locks away from her forehead, that the rain swallows the city as the indecision builds in merciless waves beneath her skin. Her chest is heaving with breathless inhalations, battling the strain of her heavy heart as Lena’s eyes, dark and desperate, search her own.

“So,” she begins to fill the awkward silence, pushing her hands into the front pockets of her jeans as her shoulders curl against the rain’s heavy pour, “I’m sorry for coming here. I just can’t stop thinking about you. It’s selfish and stupid but-”

Beneath the strobe of the lightning’s strike, Lena closes the space between them with purpose- fisting her hands in the collar of Alex’s shirt before cutting off her next apology with the insistent press of her lips. It takes a moment to register, for her mind to forgo the extra step of trying to conjure up the image of someone who isn’t there and _respond_. But Alex quickly loses herself in the familiar way their lips slant against one another, the warmth that spreads despite the chill of rain that seeps into her skin.

An involuntary moan reverberates from the hollow of her mouth, against soft crimson lips which part and swallow the sound. There is the nagging voice at the back of her head- the one that says this isn’t real, another whiskey fueled fever dream. The insistence fades as Lena sips from her mouth, slips her tongue between lips to taste the desperation and apologies left unspoken. Drawing her closer, Alex slips her hands around the woman’s hips- pushing the flat of her palms beneath the fabric of her shirt to feel the familiar warmth of Lena’s skin.

Alex kisses her with reckless abandon, hungry and desperate- trying to satisfy the deep ache that spreads from the pit of her stomach downward. A heat that spreads and fans out to steep between her legs.

If this might be the last time she kisses Lena Luthor, she’s going to make it count.

She needs her to feel it, the way her pounding heart fuels the actions of her tongue as it pens careful apologies.

A palm flattens against her sternum, pushing until their lips part and Alex chases the loss of contact. Slowly, she opens her eyes to find deep greens watching carefully. The darkness awash with the faintest tint of softness- insecurity hidden in gold rings nearly swallowed by blown pupils.

“You mean that? What you said?” Lena asks cautiously, her eyes begging for the truth and seeking any indication of hesitation- of deception. It’s so clear then just how deep the wounds of Kara’s dishonesty had extended- the knife only further pushed and twisted by Alex herself. Of all the ways Alex has seen Lena, vulnerable was never one of them.

_Until now._

“Yeah,” Alex replies slowly, in earnest as she holds fast to the woman’s gaze. With gentle sincerity, she brings two fingers to rest just below the sharp angle of the woman’s chin as her thumb traces the faintest path along her swollen lower lip, “I do.”

The palm at her sternum clenches again in the fabric and drags their bodies together, lips meeting again in an insistent and hungry pull before she’s pushed back again.

A deep breath, “Okay.”

“Okay?” the redhead repeats.

“I’m not ready to forgive yet, that will take time,” Lena says before the rumble of thunder signals the next wave of storm approaching. With a soft sigh she pushes a few stray strands of auburn hair from Alex’s eyes, “You should go. It’s late- and you’re soaked.”

“Mmm but I’m really enjoying kissing you right now,” Alex pouts, angling forward to try to steal another kiss.

Lena pulls back with a short shake of her head, her hand still hovering over Alex’s sternum to keep her at a distance, “I know. But we need to start over. I can’t just jump back into where we were.”

“I understand,” Alex nods, too enthusiastically in the obvious way that she doesn’t quite want to acknowledge. The smile across her lips is a little too tight, forced against the curling pull of disappointment trying to turn down the corners of her upturned mouth.

“Tomorrow. Pick up our usual from Noonan’s and be here at 10:30,” Lena says, barring any further explanation as she curls her fingers at Alex’s jaw and leans to place a soft kiss against her cheekbone, “Goodnight, Alex.”

Watching until Lena disappears into the building and into the elevator, she whispers, “Goodnight, Lena.”


End file.
